


Star Girl

by toesohnoes



Category: Doctor Who
Genre: Amnesia, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-01-25
Updated: 2011-01-25
Packaged: 2017-10-15 02:01:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,143
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/155848
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/toesohnoes/pseuds/toesohnoes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jenny picks up Donna as her new companion. Unfortunately, Donna doesn't remember a thing about her or the Doctor.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Star Girl

"I know it's not bigger on the inside," Jenny says as she guides Donna into her sleek spaceship, "but it suits me just fine."

She giggles like she's just made a joke, and Donna's head throbs - it's been doing that a lot, since she met Jenny (was that just this morning?), but it's worth it.

She's in space.

Her. Donna Noble. In space.

And it's bloody fantastic.

Jenny's spaceship isn't exactly the Enterprise, but it's like a swish sports car, fast and elegant. It suits Jenny perfectly, and as they squeeze in side by side Donna can't help her giddy bark of laughter. "You're mad, you are," she says. "Absolutely mad."

"Runs in the family," Jenny tells her. She sits in the driver's seat in front of controls Donna can't understand, but she doesn't seem interested in them right now. They're parked in front of Tesco, of all places, but the ship doesn't seem to attract attention - not like it should.

Jenny reaches out for her and places her hand over Donna's fingers. It's light enough that Donna could pull away with no problem - but she finds that she doesn't want to. She likes the warmth; she needs the comfort of knowing that there still is something human about this star-girl. "Do you ever dream?" Jenny asks her. "About space, I mean, not in general."

Donna can feel the brightness of Jenny's eyes asking her, _begging_ her to give her the answer that she needs. There's too much here. It feels like history. She reaches out to tuck a stray strand of Jenny's blonde hair behind her ear. "Everyone does," she says.

Everyone dreams - but not like her. Not that brightly.

Jenny reaches up and captures Donna's hand, holding it against her cheek. Her skin is so warm that Donna forgets how to pull away. "Tell me about them," Jenny says. "I'd like to hear."

There is so much to say, so much to access, and it makes Donna's breath shake. Nobody's been interested before. "There's a box," she says; she feels like she's hypnotised. "A big blue box that isn't big at all. And- In my dreams, there's a man, this skinny twig of a man with a long brown cloak. He's like a magician, and - God, my head. My _head_."

It hurts and it aches in a way that she wishes would stop. It's like a bolt of lightning shooting right through her, a knife through the centre of her forehead -

Until she feels Jenny's soft lips pressed against her head. Jenny's hands cup the sides of her face and she clambers over the console in a way that ought to look far more clumsy than it does. Donna can't pay attention. All of a sudden she has a lap full of worried Jenny, whose eyes are like a kicked puppy's when she's sad.

"Don't hurt," she pleads, kissing Donna's head again. "Please don't hurt."

Donna is a grown woman. She is independent and fierce and she does not give in to pretty teenagers pleading with wobbling bottom lips.

"It's just a headache," she says - but it's like a whisper, not like her own voice at all. "Nothing to cry about, Jenny. Stiff upper lip, come on. You're in England now, not Mars."

"I'm not from Mars," Jenny sighs. "You know that. You _should_ know that."

"Well, I don't know all the planets in the sodding galaxy, do I?" Donna laughs - but Jenny doesn't, because this is serious, and Donna can't tell why.

Jenny doesn't give her the time to think it through, a headache already rumbling. Instead she surges forward like a force of nature and captures Donna's lips with the skill of someone who has done this many times before. Her fingertips brush against Donna's cheeks as if she is soothing a wild animal, and it works. Donna calms, and sighs, and gives in to Jenny's gentle assault.

Pleasant takes a turn for hungry, and Jenny's tongue flicks into action, out across Donna's lower lip and then deeper into her mouth. One of them moans; Donna's fairly sure that she ought to be the one to own up to that. Jenny's hands slide into her hair and tilt her head back, angle changing, everything changing, until it feels even better than before.

Donna's hands slide down Jenny's sides, over her firm, slim form. She's never kissed a woman before (unless that drunken snog with Barbara is taken into consideration, and seeing as Barb had ended the night in hospital with alcohol poisoning it probably shouldn't be) but this is right, this is perfect - this might be what she has been waiting for for a long time yet.

Jenny's hips move as if she knows exactly what she's doing, and she wriggles and shifts until their thighs are interlocked, her clothes-clad groin rubbing along Donna's leg while her knee nudges right up against Donna's clit. The first burst of contact is enough to make Donna gasp in surprise, and she feels the way that Jenny smiles into their kiss before nipping on her bottom lip.

The next few minutes swell around her as the air in the ship heats, fogging the windows as Jenny moves in shifts and rises and falls. She seems to know exactly what Donna needs at all times, to be perfectly aware of when she needs more and just where she needs it - and she provides it, willing. Donna hasn't dry-humped like this since she was a teenager, but she finds herself clinging to Jenny's hips and urging her on, her clit throbbing in anticipation as each rise and fall brings perfect friction. She's soaked through her underwear and the smell of sex surrounds them.

She comes first, biting down on her bottom lip to hold in her broken cry as Jenny scatters kisses across her face and neck, playing with the ends of her hair as she continues to move, focused on bring herself off too. The rhythm changes, faster, more focused, and when Jenny comes it is with a satisfied sigh, no explosions.

Jenny's face is flushed red, and she pushes a heavy fall of her hair out of her eyes. Out of breath, she says, "Welcome to the ship," as if they've just completed a necessary ritual.

Donna smacks at her arm, too light to hurt, and Jenny giggles as she climbs back into the driver's seat. "That was just the warm-up," Jenny says.

"The warm-up?" Donna asks. She's going to need at least five minutes before she can handle another round; her cunt is throbbing from her orgasm. She feels too sensitive to even cross her legs.

"Oh yes." Jenny glances at her out of the side of her eyes, like she's telling a private joke as she kicks the ship into gear. "We've got a whole lot of running to do."


End file.
